


Sharing Dean's Bed

by Heaven_And_Hell



Series: Angel Blood [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Angelic Grace as a Cure, Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Biromantic Dean, Blood Drinking, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Castiel, Caring Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Coming In Pants, Confessions, Conflicted Dean, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Being an Idiot, Dean Has Abandonment Issues, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dean and Feelings, Dean and Romantic/Sexual Orientation, Dean is Not Heterosexual, Dean is a Sweetheart, Dean-Centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, French Kissing, Frottage, Gay Panic, Horny Castiel, Horny Dean, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kevin Has Two Mommies, Kevin Ships It, Kevin Tran Lives, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Morning Wood, Mother Hen Dean, Nipple Play, Nipples, No April Kelly, No Ezekiel | Gadreel, Non-Penetrative Sex, POV Dean Winchester, Panic Attacks, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reluctant Dean, Repressed Dean, Scared Castiel, Scared Dean, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Humor, Sexual Inexperience, Sharing a Bed, Shy Dean, Sick Sam Winchester, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Trials of Heaven, Trials of Hell, Virgin Castiel, Wet Dream, Worried Dean, casturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heaven_And_Hell/pseuds/Heaven_And_Hell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series starts at the end of the Season 8 finale. Dean stops Sam from completing the Third Trial of Hell (curing a demon/Crowley), Metatron steals Cas' grace, and Kevin is locked in the bunker -- but when the angels fall, Cas lands near the boys. Castiel can't heal Sam by simply touching his forehead, but perhaps there's another way. Cas feeds Sam his still angelic blood -- but while it appears to be helping Sammy, it's making Cas weaker and more human. Dean is forced to face his feelings for Cas, when the lives of the two people he loves the most are on the line. Cas struggles with his growing humanity, while Dean struggles with everything. But all is not as it seems.</p><p>
  <b>In this "episode," Sam has attacked Cas for his blood, almost killing him, but Dean saved his life. After Dean and Kevin lock Sam up, Kevin goes to bed, leaving Dean to take care of Cas, alone. The story starts in medias res, as Dean finishes changing Cas' bandages and they end up in bed together.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Thick and Stiff

**Author's Note:**

> It's impossible to predict all triggers, but here are some to look out for:
> 
> WARNINGS FOR: Blood, cutting, near-death experiences, medical stuff, being attacked, PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks, homophobia.
> 
> If there are any major ones I've overlooked, please tell me and I'll add them here.

“There,” Dean smiles, satisfied Cas’ new bandages are snug, but not too tight. He gently pats Cas on the side of the face, as a silent goodnight, as he turns to leave the room. At first, Dean thinks the noises he’s hearing are just Cas getting dressed for bed, but after a couple steps, he hears the familiar tap of Cas’ dress shoes on the floor behind him. Dean steals a glance back and is a little surprised to see a still shirtless Cas, t-shirt in hand, following him like a lost puppy. “You need somethin’ else?”

“Oh,” Cas glances down, looking somewhat guilty. “Could I borrow a different shirt?” Cas holds the green t-shirt up and wrinkles his nose. “The material of this one is too thick and stiff to be comfortable.”

“Too thick and stiff?” Dean smirks, just tired enough to resist turning that into a joke.

“Yes, it pulls at my bandages when I try to sleep,” Cas explains, poking at the sleeve that’s sticking out like it’s been starched.

Dean chuckles at the sight. “Yeah, sure. Follow me,” he responds fondly, tamping down the odd excitement he feels about Cas coming with him to his room. _At night. Alone. Ok, that’s stupid – we’ve been alone in my room before. Maybe it’s just cause he doesn’t have a shirt on? Whatever._

“Night, Kev!” Dean calls down the hallway.

After a moment of silence, Cas says, “Goodnight, Kevin,” to the dark hallway, as well.

Dean turns a bit and shrugs, “Guess he’s crashed out, already.” Cas gives a little sideways nod in agreement.

When they walk through the door to Dean’s room, that bubbling feeling of excitement rises up in Dean’s chest, again. _What the Hell is that all about?_ he wonders, smirking to himself. He squats down to open the second to last drawer of his dresser. “Let’s see here,” he says while rummaging around, “something not too thick or stiff…” he laughs and shakes his head at the unconscious innuendo.

Cas sits on the bottom right of the bed, just behind Dean. He's been close on his heels since the infirmary; being near Dean calms his nerves. Cas is ashamed to admit he’s afraid. Sam is securely bound – Dean made quite sure of that – with demon- and angel-proof shackles, no less. Sam was not going to attack Cas, again. He wasn’t. He was bound. And yet… how many times had they bound someone or something before, confident the restraints would hold – and they still got loose and attacked them, anyway? Cas stops breathing for a moment as fear clutches his chest. His heartbeat stutters and his lungs feel paralyzed. “D…Dean?” he struggles to breathe out.

“Yeah?” Dean responds without looking back, still searching for a softer shirt for Cas.

Chest still feeling tight, Cas continues, “Sam… Sam’s securely bound, right?”

Dean stands and turns to face Cas. “Yeah, buddy,” he says gently, his face understanding, “I made damn sure he won’t hurt you, again. You’re safe.” Cas exhales a shaky breath and hugs his arms to himself, while nervously eyeing the door. “Hey,” Dean says tenderly, cupping Cas’ cheek, “look at me.” Cas does as he’s told, though his light-blue eyes keep flitting back towards the door to Dean’s room. “You’re safe, now, Cas. You hear me?” Cas’ mouth becomes a straight line and he halfheartedly nods a few times. Dean pats Cas’ bicep and says, “Try to relax,” while shooting him a half-smile. Feeling Cas’ skin under his fingers, Dean starts glancing around the room, “Let me find you a better shirt. I have a black knit stretchy one, somewhere.” Cas forces a little smile and nods, again. Dean snaps his fingers and points at Cas, “It’s in the laundry room!” and quickly walks towards the door.

Cas shifts on the bed and clutches the footboard with his hands, “Dean?” he yelps, panic evident in his voice. Dean’s already to the door when he turns to see Cas’ sad and nervous puppy-dog eyes. Dean’s eyebrows go up at the strange sight: this former Angel of the Lord sitting on his bed, shirtless, with the physique and muscles of a man, but the expressions and mannerisms of a scared child. Cas looks so vulnerable, now. And smaller, somehow. Cas raises his eyebrows and pushes his bottom lip out a little. “I’ll be right back,” Dean says reassuringly. Cas tilts his head to the side and pleads with his eyes, looking even more sad and pathetic. Dean can’t say no to this face. “Well,” Dean motions with his hand, “come on, then.” Cas gives a real smile and wastes no time getting to his feet.


	2. Bon Jovi Rocks -- on Occasion

Their walk to the laundry room is silent; both men lost in thought. Dean tries to suppress a smile. _He’s perfected that fucking puppy-dog look of Sam’s. Sam. He better be ok. If this is like the demon blood, I’ll just have to keep him locked up until Cas’ blood works its way out of his system. But if Cas’ blood is the only thing keeping him alive… shit. How are we going to do this? We’ll probably have to wean Sam off Cas’ blood, but with Cas so freaked out, now – he might not want to help anymore._ Dean sighs. He decides to check on Sam again – without Cas – before he goes to sleep. _Maybe he’s healed enough now that going cold turkey won’t kill him? And if he gets real bad, again, Cas will surely intervene, again, right?_ Dean looks at Cas, but the frightened eyes staring back at him are no comfort. Dean sighs again. _Hell, if I have to, I can dose Sammy with Crowley’s blood._ The thought literally makes Dean want to puke. _Ok, only if there are absolutely NO other options._

Every tiny noise in the bunker makes Cas flinch. His eyes are constantly searching the darkness, on the lookout for Sam. Poor Sam. Even though part of him is terrified of the taller Winchester now, Cas can’t help but feel pity for him, too. Sam didn’t do anything wrong – Cas did. Sam was trying to close the gates of Hell. And unlike Cas, he was actually doing it, not being deceived and causing more harm than good. Cas’ brothers and sisters are even more confused and scared than he is. At least _he_ knows what’s going on. He has to go out there and try to help some of them. At least try to undo some of the massive damage he has done – yet, again. Sam attacking him for his blood is his fault, too. He deserves his anger; his wrath. It would serve him right if Sam killed him. Sam was ready to die; ready to nobly make the penultimate sacrifice any human can make. He refused Cas’ blood at first, but of course Cas forced it down his throat. It gnaws at Castiel that he did it more for Dean than for Sam. If he really, truly loved Sam, he would’ve respected his decision -- to Hell with Dean's reaction. Not forced this upon him in an attempt to placate Dean and feel useful. He betrayed Sam out of selfishness. But that terrified, helpless look on Dean’s face when Sam was dying – what else could he do? How could he sit there and let Sam die in his arms when there was something he could do that might help? He couldn't. And he never wants to see that look on Dean’s face ever again.

They reach the laundry room and Dean bends over to search through his laundry basket. The curve of Dean’s ass catches Cas’ eye and he subtly allows himself to appreciate the view, leaning his head back a little and pushing his bottom lip out in approval. Was Dean’s butt always so round? Don’t most Caucasian men have flatter rears? “Yahtzee!” Dean says, startling Cas out of his ogling. Dean triumphantly holds up the missing shirt and hands it to Cas with a smile. When Cas feels how soft and pliable the material is, he smiles back. Dean adds with a sheepish look, “I didn’t wash it, yet, but it’s not really dirty. I just wore it around here, not on a hunt.”

Cas sniffs the shirt and smiles, “I like it. It smells like you,” and clutches it to his chest in a ball.

Dean chuckles nervously, “Uh, ok then,” a small blush rising to his cheeks. _That shouldn’t make me happy, should it?_ Cas tries to put the shirt on, but it's _really_ stretchy and he gets twisted up in it. Dean stands back, hand covering his mouth, doing his best not to laugh. But when he sees it's because some of the fabric is caught on the edge of Cas' bandages, he decides to help. “Here, let me,” Dean says as he coaxes the material into place, Cas’ hands and head popping out of the correct holes.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says quietly and looks down. Dean smiles as he starts fixing Cas’ hair. Suddenly, while trying to tame a flyaway near Cas’ ear, Dean catches sight of the black of the shirt in his peripheral vision. The darkness of the shirt and Cas’ hair are like bookends to the pale skin of his face and neck in-between. Cas looks up and Dean looks into his eyes. _Oh God, those eyes. Fuck!  
♪ “Shot through the heart and you’re to blame!” ♫_

“Damn,” Dean takes a step back to take all of Cas in. Something about the contrast of dark and light makes Cas look even sexier than usual. His eyes seem lighter, but they're still stunning. Dean licks his lips, then blurts out, “Fuck Cas, you look hot!” Then instantly panics, “I… I mean _good!_ You look good... in black! It’s definitely your color!” _That was a stupid thing to say, cause blue is obviously Cas’ color, the way it brings out his eyes and oh crap._ Cas looks down at the shirt, then up at Dean with knowing eyes and a small, proud smirk. It’s the same look he gave Dean when they first met – when Dean plunged Ruby’s knife into his chest - and it's sexy as Hell. Dean feels the blood rushing to his crotch. “Is it hot in here? I’m gonna go check the thermostat,” he fumbles before running out of the room.

Dean speed walks down the hallway, til he gets to the thermostat. He puts his hand on the tiled wall and reads the display. _69 degrees, yeah, of course that’s what it’d be. Oh man, I’m getting a chubby. This is not good! I’m NOT getting a boner over Cas! This is not happening! Yeah, so he's hot, but so what? He's my best friend! There's just some lines you don't cross._ Dean tries to calm his breathing. _69 degrees, that should be cold. So it’s just me, then... of course it’s just me._ He shifts his legs. _Yep, that’s a chubby. Damn it! Hey, the wall is nice and cold._ He spreads his fingers out and pushes his palm to the cool tile. _Oh yeah, that feels good._ He looks down the hallway and doesn’t see anyone. Coast clear, Dean pushes his body flush against the tiles with an appreciative groan. The coolness seeps into his body, counteracting the heat of his blood. After a minute or two, he feels comfortable, again: heart no longer racing, breathing regular, temperature back to normal -- and most importantly -- chubby gone. Dean straightens his clothes and clears his throat. _Ok, time to check on Sammy._


	3. Big Brother

Dean stands in front of the door to the room they’d locked Sam in earlier that day. No way was he going to lock his brother in the dungeon with Crowley. Yeah, the dungeon was fitted with an assortment of warded chains with nice, reinforced attachment points, but Sam was fucked up enough – he didn’t need Crowley mind-fucking him, too. And Dean didn’t want to think it possible, but that bastard might somehow convince Sam to team up with him to escape. Dean listens at the door. It’s quiet; no sound of movement within. _It’s too quiet. He can’t still be knocked out, can he? I know I hit him hard, but… shit. He better not have a fractured skull or anything. Probably a concussion. But I better be careful in case he’s trying to play me… I should’ve brought someone as back-up._ Dean takes the skeleton key out of his pocket and unlocks the door as quietly as possible. He pushes the door open slowly with his fingers, ready to jump back in case Sam somehow got loose and is hiding behind the door. But Sam is still laying in the same place and same position as they left him, hours ago.

Sam’s sitting on the floor, his long arms and legs strewn haphazardly. The chain to the warded, cast-iron collar around his neck is looped several times around a large pipe that goes vertically, floor to ceiling, and latched to itself with a warded padlock. This is holding his body mostly upright, but his head is lolled to the side. “Sam?” Dean says without moving from the door. Sam doesn’t move. Dean takes a few steps into the room and says, “Sammy?” a little louder. Still nothing. Dean looks Sam over, without getting closer. _He looks like he’s breathing alright – maybe a little shallow, but not bad. Nothing’s glowing on him, that’s a good sign._ Dean crouches down and says, “Sammy?” while looking at his brother’s face. A little twitch by one of Sam’s eyelids. _Ok, he can hear me, that’s good._ Dean take a few more steps til he’s as close to Sam as he can get, while still being out of range of his brother’s freakishly long legs. Dean looks to the other chains to make sure they’re still secure. _Ok, the locks for his hands and one of his feet are still latched, but I can’t see the one for his other foot._ Dean groans a little in annoyance. _Screw it, I’m goin in. How much damage could he do with one foot, anyway?_

Dean steps lightly to Sam’s side, giving the leg in question a wide berth. “Sam?” he says a bit loud. Nothing. Dean sticks a foot out and quickly taps Sam’s foot and, just as quick, pulls his leg back. Sam’s foot falls to the side and Dean can see the final padlock is still closed. Dean slowly lets his breath out in relief. _Ok, now I can look him over._ He picks up the melted ice bags and tosses them to the side. _Ok, warm, but not hot,_ Dean thinks as he feels Sam’s forehead. He picks up the electronic ear thermometer and takes Sam’s temperature while watching his face for movement. _101.4F That’s not too bad._ Sam wrinkles his face a little as the thermometer beeps. “Hey, Sam,” Dean says while straightening his brother’s head up with his hands. “Can you hear me?” Sam makes a little groan in the back of his throat. “Sammy?” Dean slaps his cheek a few times, but not too hard. Another little groan. Dean sighs and starts moving Sam’s head around, looking for damage. He did that earlier, but just wants to double-check. Dean hears chains jingling and sees Sam move his right hand a little. “You ok, man?” Dean feels Sam nod his head yes a tiny bit in his hands. A smiles breaks out on Dean’s face and he strokes Sam’s hair. “Good. You hang in there, buddy. I’ll be right back.”

Quickly, Dean gathers up the melted ice bags without turning his back on his brother. He walks out of the room, but stops after a few feet. _I better lock the door, just in case._ He puts the bags down, locks the door, then picks the bags back up and speed walks to the kitchen. _Ok, his fever is down and he doesn’t have any injuries on his head. And he can hear me and respond and move a little. This is good. It’s like he has a bad case of the flu or something. I can handle this. Sammy’ll be up and around in no time... I hope._ Dean empties the water from the Ziploc bags into the sink and fills them with fresh ice. _Just in case his fever goes up during the night._ He also grabs three bottles of water from the fridge and a dish towel and heads back to the room.

Dean practically juggles the supplies in his arms to unlock the door. He kicks open the door. Sam’s still got his eyes closed, but his arms have moved a little from when Dean left him. Dean drops the water bottles and dish towel on the floor. One bottle bounces and the other two roll away. “Son of a bitch.” He takes one of the ice bags and puts it on the back of Sam’s neck, below the collar.

“Ehhn!” Sam groans and moves his torso forward a little, away from the cold.

Dean laughs, “You’re such a baby.” Smiling, he grabs a water bottle and wets the dish towel. “Here, let me see,” he says while grabbing Sam’s face. Sam wrinkles his forehead a little, but still doesn’t open his eyes. Dean wipes Sam’s forehead and cheeks with the cool rag.

“Mmmmm,” Sam responds.

“Feels good, huh?” Dean laughs. Then he sees it – a little bit of dried blood in the corner of Sam’s mouth. Cas’ blood. Dean’s smile drops and he scrubs the blood off roughly with the towel. He unceremoniously shoves a couple of ice packs up Sam’s shirt, against his back. Sam groans and wiggles a little, but Dean’s whole mood has changed. No more brotherly teasing; just doing what needs to be done as fast as possible. He throws the towel across the room and gets the water bottles that rolled away. He puts them within Sam’s reach on the floor. “That should do it. See ya tomorrow, Sammy.” Dean locks the door behind him and heads to his room.


	4. Mama Hen and Baby Bird

As Dean nears his room, he can see Castiel from behind, through the open door. He’s standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair. It’s such a human thing to do that it seems odd for Cas to do it. Dean’s lips move into a goofy little smile and he stops walking, deciding to watch this scene unfold. Cas is licking his long fingers and slicking back the hair near his ears. Then he takes his fingers and fluffs out and pulls at the hair on top of his head, making disheveled spiky clumps. _Has he always done this? I thought his hair was just windblown from flying around all the time._ Dean puts the back of his hand to his lips to keep from laughing. Cas is still fluffing away, really getting into it, now, and tilting his head this way and that, as he surveys his work with serious eyes. _Why is this hilarious? He’s just fixing his hair. I better not laugh, it might hurt his feelings. Better let him know I’m coming._ Dean fakes a cough and looks at the floor, so Cas won’t know he saw him. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, cause when Dean looks up, Cas is still preening himself -- albeit, not as intensely. “Got a hot date I don’t know about?” Dean jokes.

Cas turns from the mirror to look at Dean, his hand still hovering near his hair. A confused look slowly comes over his face, “No?" Dean rolls his eyes and Cas realizes he was joking. “How’s Sam?” he asks.

The smile leaves Dean’s face and he groans as he sits on the bed. “He’s fine, Cas.” Knit brows answer that reply and Dean elaborates in an exhausted voice, “He’s getting better, I think. His fever's down and I didn’t find any injuries on him. He hadn’t moved from earlier and didn’t open his eyes, but he kinda woke up or something. He grunted some when I talked to him and he moved a little.”

Cas nods and asks, “What’s his temperature?”

Dean looks annoyed and like he’s going to say something mean, but his expression becomes resigned and he says, “101.4” as he takes off his boots and puts them near the wall. He lays back on the bed and pushes his palms to his eyes.

Cas responds, “That’s better than it was, but still…”

“I sponged him off and put some new ice packs on him, _ok, Mom?_ He'll be fine!” Dean interrupts, palms still on his eyes. Dean feels the mattress move and looks to see Cas sitting on the other side of the bed with a frown on his face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I just wanted to know how Sam was doing,” he says in a small voice, without meeting Dean’s eyes.

Dean sighs, “I know, man. Look, I’m just tired, ok? And I've been taking care of Sammy my whole life, so I _think_ I know what I'm doing. Plus..." Dean trails off.

"Plus?" Cas prompts with narrowed eyes.

"Plus, I don’t know how you can care so much after he almost fucking killed you,” Dean quickly responds, anger in his voice.

Cas gives Dean a scoffing, insulted look, “He didn’t almost kill me.”

Dean sits up, voice angrier, “Really? Cause that’s not what I saw. He had a knife _in_ your fucking shoulder and blood was everywhere.” Dean has much more to say; he has his rant loaded and ready to fire, but Cas’ expression changes – his eyes become glassy and distant and Dean knows he’s reliving the attack. “I’m sorry,” Dean says quietly and puts a hand on Cas’ good shoulder. Cas flinches and Dean quickly takes his hand away and says, “Sorry,” again. Cas vaguely nods. “Look, Sam is going to be fine. He’s a tough mother. He’s been through way worse." Dean tilts his head and gets closer to Cas' face, "Hell ring any bells?” The question brings Cas back to himself and he laughs a little as his eyes refocus on Dean’s face. “And before you ask, I checked his chains, again, and they’re all locked tight and secure.” Cas gives a grateful smile and nods. “And I peeked in on Kevin on my way back – the kid is out like a light. I bet he’s gonna sleep for a week,” Dean groans as he lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes, “Ohhhhh… which is what I want to do.”

“Kevin was a big help. He did what I should’ve done. I’m sorry I froze and didn’t help, Dean. I don’t know what came over me,” Cas says.

Dean sits up and looks at Cas incredulously, “Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean sighs, “I don’t even know what to say to you, anymore, man. You’re making it really hard for me to not yell at you.” He rubs his forehead and continues in an even tone that gradually turns into a rant, “You kinda had your hands full trying to not bleed to death, Cas. What else were you supposed to do, huh? You’re not Superman, anymore, ya know! You’re down here in the mud and blood with all the rest of us! And I’m sorry, but now that you’re human, you have to think about taking care of yourself first!”

Cas’ mouth gets small and hard and his eyes angry, but he doesn’t say anything. Dean watches him clench and release his jaw a few times. Then he exhales and says in a measured voice, “So I really was in danger of dying." It's not a question, but a statement; an acceptance of fact. "That terror I felt as the blood…" he takes a steadying breath, " _my_ blood...” his voice becomes distant as he puts his hands to his chest and slides them down, “...ran hot and wet down my skin… that was my life-force slipping away from me?”

Cas turns and sees Dean's eyes almost overflowing with the tears he’s holding back. “Yeah,” Dean croaks out and a tear drops out each of his eyes as he blinks, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, man. You really scared me.” Dean puts his hand on Cas' good shoulder and squeezes a little. His bottom lip quivers as he tries to keep from crying. Cas puts his hand on Dean’s and Dean flinches a little but allows it. More tears fall, “I never stitched someone up so fast in my life. I kept putting the stitches in as fast as I could, but the blood just kept on coming.” _Oh God, I don’t even want to think about it._ Dean rubs his eyes and scrubs his hand over his forehead and hair, “I can’t believe we didn’t…” a short, high-pitched whimper ends his sentence prematurely. He holds his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, then turns away. Cas squeezes his hand and Dean asks in a quiet and broken voice, “Haven’t you died on me enough, already, man?”

Cas swoops in and hugs Dean tight. Dean nuzzles his face into the side of Cas’ neck, muffling his cries. Cas’ eyes start to tear up and he starts rubbing Dean’s back with one of his hands. Try as he might, no matter how hard Cas clenches his eyes shut, the tears won’t stay in and it’s pissing him off. He pulls away and says between sobs, “I… don’t like… crying… Dean!” When Dean sees Cas’ expression, it reminds him of Grumpy Cat and he can’t help it, he laughs.

“No one does, Cas,” he laughs as he wipes away one of Cas’ tears with his thumb. Dean pulls Cas to his chest, again, and starts rubbing his back with his whole hand. Cas hunches forward as he starts to sob. “That’s it, buddy, let it all out. It’s ok,” Dean croons, still rubbing Cas’ back. After a while, Cas goes silent, but Dean can tell he’s still crying by the growing wetness on his shirt and the shaking of Cas' body. Dean gently pushes him forward a little to see his face. Snot is everywhere and Cas looks wretched. _Ok, so some of that wetness could be snot._ He pulls Cas close to him, again and starts running his fingers through his hair, “Shhhhh, shhhhhh. It’s ok, now, Cas. You’re ok. I’ve got you.” Cas hugs him tighter. “Just breathe, Cas. Breathe. In and out. In… and out…. Slow.”

Dean hears Cas snuffling. “I’b habing trouble breeding, Dean,” Cas says in a panicked, congested voice. Dean chuckles silently and pushes Cas forward so he can see his face. Poor Cas looks miserable. _Well, there’s already snot on it._ Dean shucks off his outer-shirt and grabs his t-shirt by the collar. He pulls it up and off by the neck, so Cas’ boogers won’t get on him. Cas gives him a confused and startled look, but Dean doesn’t miss the little glance he steals at his bare chest. _Heh, I saw that._

Dean wipes the tears and clear mucus off Cas’ face, then turns the shirt to a clean spot, grabs Cas’ nose with it and says, “Blow.”

“What?” Cas’ confused eyes and eyebrows show over the shirt.

“Breathe in through your mouth, then close your mouth and blow the air out through your nose, hard.” Dean explains. Cas takes a gulp of air and does as he’s told. He coughs a bit at the end and Dean can hear he’s still clogged up. “Again.” Cas does it again, without coughing. Dean wipes his nose with the t-shirt. “Can you breathe now?”

Cas breathes though his nose with just a little noise. “Yeah,” he responds, pleasantly surprised. He inhales deeply and flashes Dean a gummy smile, “thanks, Dean.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean replies while grabbing his outer-shirt off the bed. He stands up and says, “Go wash your face and hands,” while gesturing to the sink. Dean hangs his outer-shirt on a hook on the wall, while Cas washes his face. Dean glances around for his clothes basket and remembers it’s in the laundry room. He looks around for somewhere to put the dirty t-shirt, holding it away from his body like it grosses him out. Then he shrugs and tosses it on the floor in the corner of the room while saying, “Bleh.” On his way over to the sink, he closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone catch the Soundgarden reference in this chapter? If so, please leave me a comment to let me know! :D


	5. Take It, Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME WARNING: HIV isn't the only deadly disease that can be passed through blood. Blood-types matter, too, yada yada. Basically, DON'T DRINK OTHER PEOPLE'S BLOOD.

Dean washes his hands and has to wait for Cas to finish drying his face so he can use the towel. When Cas takes the white towel away from his face, Dean’s startled to notice Cas’ skin is almost the same color. “Hey,” he says as he takes the towel from him, “how are you feeling?”

“I can breathe much better, now.”

“No, I mean do you feel tired or weak?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice.

“I always feel weak, now,” Cas laments, looking down.

The admission pulls at Dean’s heart, but he doesn’t have time to talk with Cas about his emotions. He needs information to determine his course of action. So he dries his hands and asks, “Now… that you’re human?” for clarification.

“Yes, it’s very different from being an angel.”

“I _get_ that. But, how about since, you know?”

“I feel…” Cas searches for the right word, “...fragile. Why?”

 _That_ admission stabs Dean’s heart and he notices the lines under Cas’ eyes are even more pronounced than usual. In fact, the way they arc under his eyes, combined with how sunken his eyes are now, causes an image of a skull to flash in Dean’s mind. _No, he’s not dying on me, again!_

Dean grimaces, “You don’t look good. Lift your shirt up.”

Cas gives Dean a confused look and hesitates for a moment. Then he slowly raises the shirt to show his stomach, which he’s obviously sucking in, “Like this?” he asks.

”Relax,” Dean says. When Cas doesn't, Dean shoots him his 'really?' expression and Cas lets his belly out. Dean pulls the shirt up higher to look at the bandages around Cas’ left shoulder, “You’re not bleedin' again, are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

To Dean’s relief, there’s no blood showing through the bandages, so he starts examining Cas’ torso and abdomen. Dean runs his fingers down the side of Cas’ abs, pushing a bit, here and there, “Are you hurting anywhere in your chest or belly?”

”No... why?”

”Good. I’m makin’ sure you’re not bleedin’ into your gut or anything. Turn around,” he orders. Cas dutifully turns around. Dean touches his back with his fingertips and splays them out, running his thumb along Cas’ skin. Cas shifts on his feet and Dean quickly pulls his hand back in alarm. “You ok? Did that hurt?” he asks.

“I’m ok,” Cas shifts again and continues, “I just didn’t expect… I’m ok.”

“You sure?” Dean asks. Cas turns around to face him, still holding the shirt up. _Heh, he's adorable._ Dean tries and fails to resist a grin. “You can stop that,” he adds.

”Oh,” Cas responds with a little embarrassed and disconcerted look, putting the shirt back into place. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

”Ok,” Dean nods. “The good news is I don’t think you have any internal bleeding. Sit,” Dean points to the edge of the bed. Cas does as he’s told and Dean walks over to his duffle. He takes Ruby’s knife out and turns back towards Cas.

When Cas sees the knife in Dean's hand, his body tenses up and concern comes over his face. “Dean... what are you doing?” he asks warily.

“Huh?” Dean looks at the knife, “Oh, shit. Sorry,” he says, quirking his mouth in apology, “I didn’t mean to spook ya.” He hides the tip of the blade in the towel in his left hand, so it’s less threatening. “The bad news is – you’re low on blood. Remember the schedule we made for how often you could give Sam blood?”

Cas’ body posture relaxes and he puts his hands on the edge of the mattress, “Yes?”

“Well, I know you gave it to him more often than you should have,” Dean explains while walking over to stand in front of the former angel. Cas looks guilty, but before he can deny it, Dean looks down at him and says, “Save it – I know. Kevin ratted you out. And with the blood you lost today, you’re runnin’ low. So I’m gonna top ya off.” Dean cuts the meaty part of his inner forearm, just under the bend.

“Dean!” Cas exclaims, raising his hands in protest.

“Bottoms up, pal,” Dean smirks, holding his bleeding arm out to Cas. _Why did I say that? I'm such an idiot._

Cas’ tries to grab the towel from Dean’s hand, so he can use it to stop the bleeding. But Dean grips it tight, causing the blood to flow out of his arm even quicker. “Damn it, Cas. Just do it! I already cut my arm and it’ll help you,” Dean scolds. Cas' eyes flick from Dean’s arm to his face and back again. Gingerly, he takes Dean’s arm in his hands, lightly – almost reverently – and looks up at him again, questioningly. “Damn it, just take it, Cas!” Dean barks as a few drops roll off his arm onto the floor.

And then time slows down -- or seems to, at least. Cas’ leans forward and starts licking up the trails of blood on Dean's arm. Dean quickly sucks in a breath, surprised how sensual Cas’ tongue feels on his skin and how it instantly shoots pleasure to his dick. _Whoa! Ok, calm down._ He takes a step closer, into Cas' personal space. Unconsciously, he drops the knife and it clatters to the floor, unnoticed by either of them. Dean puts his hand around the back of Cas’ head, swirling his fingers through his hair. “Take it, Cas,” he breathes out while gently guiding Cas’ mouth up to the bleeding wound. The inside of Cas’ bottom lip drags all along the sensitive skin of Dean’s forearm on the way up. It sends shivers through Dean's body and waves of warmth to his crotch. Cas' hot, wet mouth opens over the gash and when he starts sucking, Dean just about loses his mind. _Why, how did I ever think this was a good idea?_

Dean feels himself getting hard, _Oh shit, no!_ Cas’ hold on his arm gets stronger and Dean can feel the tip of Cas’ tongue probing into the slit. “Take it, Cas,” he whispers, using all his willpower to fight the urge to roll his hips. Cas squeezes Dean’s arm tight and starts sucking hard enough to leave a hickey. A strangled groan escapes Dean’s lips and Cas’ eyes flick open, locking with Dean’s. But Cas’ eyes look different: relaxed, smoldering, and dangerous. _Oh, shit! I fucked up!_ Cas’ fingers slide further up Dean’s arm, pulling him even closer. Desire, fear, and excitement mingle, making Dean’s heart pound.

Cas takes his mouth off Dean's arm and wraps his hand tight around the wound to stop the bleeding. He stares up at Dean intensely with dark blue eyes, breathing hard, dark hair askew, blood on his silent parted lips. _God, he’s fucking gorgeous!_ Dean, breathing heavy and desperately trying to control himself, stares back. Cas stands up, practically sliding up Dean’s body until they’re face to face. _Oh fuck! He knows and he’s pissed._ Dean’s heart skips a beat. His eyes flick to Cas’ red lips, then back to his mesmerizing cerulean and black eyes. “Wha... what are you doing, Cas?” he manages to stutter out.

Cas threads his fingers through the back of Dean's hair. _Oh yes._ He leans closer and purrs, “I want to taste more of you, Dean.”


	6. Animals

Cas takes his mouth off Dean's arm and wraps his hand tight around the wound to stop the bleeding. He stares up at Dean intensely with dark blue eyes, breathing hard, dark hair askew, blood on his silent parted lips. _God, he’s fucking gorgeous!_ Dean, breathing heavy and desperately trying to control himself, stares back. Cas stands up, practically sliding up Dean’s body until they’re face to face. _Oh fuck! He knows and he’s pissed._ Dean’s heart skips a beat. His eyes flick to Cas’ red lips, then back to his mesmerizing cerulean and black eyes. “Wha... what are you doing, Cas?” he manages to stutter out.

Cas threads his fingers through the back of Dean's hair. _Oh yes._ He leans closer and purrs, “I want to taste more of you, Dean.”

A little gasp escapes Dean's lips and he pulls Cas’ body to his own. Cas mashes their lips together and pulls Dean down into the kiss. _Oh fuck yes!_ Dean starts grinding against the former angel. His heart is racing and he can taste his blood on Cas’ lips… Cas’ tongue. _Why is that so fucking hot?_ It makes him delve deeper into Cas’ mouth.

Their kissing is frenzied and desperate -- as if they're trying to sate years of desire instantaneously. Hands are everywhere, pulling and caressing. _Oh God, yes! Yes._ Cas lowers himself onto the bed and slides back, pulling Dean with him by the hand. They break their kiss and Dean straddles Cas' body, gaping down at him in silent awe. Thoughts of hesitation trying to form in Dean's mind evaporate as Cas’ yearning blue eyes gaze back at him, begging. Dean lowers onto Cas, slowly and passionately kissing him. When Dean feels Cas buck up against him, he kisses him hard and grinds him into the memory foam. _Yes, yes, yes!_ Cas breaks the kiss with a low, gravelly moan that’s downright filthy. He grabs Dean's hips and they rut against each other with animalistic abandon.

Lost in the fast-paced, pleasurable rhythm, Dean’s startled when Cas grabs his ass. _What the?!_ His head jerks up in surprise, but he keeps on thrusting. Eyes closed and groaning, Cas snakes his right arm between them, reaching for Dean’s crotch. Even though the denim’s thick, Cas’ fingertips grazing his dick feel incredible. _HOLY SHIT, CAS IS TOUCHING MY JUNK!_ Cas huffs out a husky, “Dean,” and that does it. Dean loses his rhythm and his thrusts become uncoordinated.

“Ohhh, Cas… Holy shit! I’m gonna!” _Oh my God, I can't believe!_ Before he knows it, Dean is coming in his pants. _I love you, Cas! I love you, you stupid son of a bitch!_ Dean's arms give out and he covers Cas with his shuddering body. When he comes out of his post-orgasmic haze, Dean can hear his heart pumping wildly and Cas’ ragged breathing in his ear. _Wait, he stopped moving. I didn’t say that out loud, did I? Shit! Please don’t let me have shouted that! I know he knows, but still._ Dean's afraid to look at Cas or speak and his thoughts are flying a mile a minute. _Why isn’t he saying anything? Did he just want to make out and thinks I’m disgusting, now? Oh shit, was he trying to stop me - is that what he was doing with his hand? Trying to block contact? Did he get control of himself and realize we made a horrible mistake? Does he hate me now? Think I used him? Is he going to leave forever? Oh God, how could I have let this happen? I’m such a fucking idiot!_

“Uh, Dean?”

 _Oh shit, here it comes._ “Uh... yeah, Cas?” Dean replies, full of dread.

“I… um…" Cas shifts underneath him, clearly uncomfortable. _Just say it and get it over with!_ "I think I’m going to have to borrow another pair of underwear.”

Dean laughs out loud, relief washing over his body. _We came together. Oh my God, we fucking came together! I thought that only happened with chicks!_ He puts his face to the mattress and laughs heartily again, then quickly raises up and plants a firm peck on Cas' sweaty cheek. “Sure, buddy,” he giggles in relief, eyes smiling bright, as he rolls off Cas to sit next to him on the mattress.

Cas laughs like a perv, but his glittering eyes and gummy smile are endearing. "I guess my preening worked," he says.

"Your what now?" Dean asks while rubbing his arm, seeing the congealed blood has started to form a hardened scab.

"Sorry, I meant grooming. In humans it's called 'grooming.' And in primates and..." Cas tries to explain, but just confuses Dean even more.

“English, please, Cas.”

"When you groomed me earlier... weren't you extending a sexual invitation?" Cas ventures.

Dean looks shocked and scared for a second, then his eyebrows come together as he says, "Wait, what are you talking about? When did I groom you?"

Cas sits up, nervously. "Uh... when you helped me put your shirt on, with your scent on it. And then rearranged my hair."

Dean laughs, "Oh, that!"

Cas leans towards Dean and asks with raised eyebrows, "You were... marking me as your own? So no one else would have sexual relations with me?" Dean stares back at him like a deer caught in the headlights, blinking silently. _Oh shit. He's just gonna straight up ask, huh? Yeah, of course I was turned on, but 'marking' him as my own? Fuck, I don't know..._ His mind goes blank and he feels like he might start hyperventilating as fear creeps up on him. Cas notices his discomfort and tries an easier question, "When you said I looked 'hot'... you meant I sexually aroused you, correct?"

Dean laughs and starts to breathe easier, but he can feel heat rising in his cheeks. _Ok, that one I can answer. I just jizzed myself over him, so I think the jig is up._ Dean knows he's starting to blush and looks at the bed, "I... um… " he trails off, thinking over the events from earlier. Cas lowers his head towards the mattress to try and catch Dean's eye. It works and Cas does that adorable expression, where his eyes look very round and his eyebrows are high up in silent question. He quirks his head adorably, to renew the question. Dean laughs fondly. _There's my dorky angel._ Then says quietly, "Yeah..." and looks away. "I... I was... you... you did," he admits. _Articulate, Winchester!_ Cas smiles widely in relief and satisfaction, while Dean keeps glancing at him and away, smiling shyly and nervously.

 _His hair._ Dean perks up and asks, "Wait, so is that why you were fixing your hair when I came in?"

Cas looks looks down at his hands and says quietly, "I wanted you to know I accepted your invitation." Then he looks up and a huge smile spreads across his face, "And look _hotter_ for you than I did before you ran off."

 _Bastard._ Dean laughs. "So, wait... you were trying to seduce me?" he asks.

"I guess?" Cas considers for a moment, then replies, "Yeah," nodding. A small smile plays on his face.

"Oh my God," Dean laughs, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"I said, my grooming must have worked," Cas explains.


	7. Naked

_Bastard._ Dean laughs. "So, wait... you were trying to seduce me?" he asks.

"I guess?" Cas considers for a moment, then replies, "Yeah," nodding. A small smile plays on his face.

"Oh my God," Dean laughs, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"I said, my grooming must have worked," Cas explains.

Dean face-palms, laughing to himself, unable to believe this turn of events. “Yeah, well, mission accomplished, Romeo,” Dean responds. Cas gives him a confused look and Dean rolls his eyes. “Shakespeare? Really!? You’ve _never_ heard of Shakespeare before?” Dean asks in disbelief.

“Heard of him, yes. But what does…”

“Nevermind. Let’s, um, let’s get cleaned up, huh?” Dean cuts him off. Cas nods, looking down at the crotch of his grey sweatpants. Dean stands up, then looks around the room uncomfortably, unsure what to do. “I, um, yeah,” he quickly goes to the dresser and grabs two pairs of briefs. He tosses the black ones at Cas, “Here,” and starts nervously glancing around the room, again.

Cas picks up the briefs from where they landed on the bed, then looks at Dean and asks, “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean’s holding his new, navy blue briefs with both his hands. He looks at Cas with his eyebrows up and confesses sheepishly, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before, ya know?” He tries to laugh awkwardly, but the laugh doesn’t quite come out and he just stares at Cas helplessly. He lets his hands fall to his sides and confesses, “I’m kinda freaking out here, ok?”

Cas looks back at him, eyes narrowing in confusion, “Why?”

“Why?!” Dean throws his arms up and sighs. He feels his heartbeat speed up, “I don’t know! Just… ” he motions between Cas and himself, “We’re not supposed to do this, ya know? This isn’t how friends act!” His expression is pained, his eyes pleading with Cas to understand.

Cas walks on his knees over to Dean at the edge of the bed, “Do you want to just be friends with me, Dean?”

Dean stares into Cas’ sad, scared eyes and unconsciously leans closer to him. _Oh, Cas._ His heart aches and a whine is trying to make its way out of his throat, but he keeps it in check. He puts his forehead to Cas’ while exhaling and closing his eyes. Then he gently runs his hand down the back of Cas’ head and neck. “No,” he whispers, fighting back tears, as he cradles Cas tenderly.

After a moment, Cas moves his head back to look at Dean. Dean keeps his eyes closed. Cas slowly moves up and kisses Dean’s lips, lightly. Dean opens his eyes, looking a little surprised. Cas gently strokes his cheek and Dean starts to smile a little and leans into the touch. “Get dressed and come to bed,” Cas says. Dean’s eyes go hazy and he nods, numbly.

“Ok,” he says, innocently as a child, still nodding. Cas smiles at him and Dean says, “Ok,” again. Cas sits back on his heels, hands on his thighs, beaming at Dean.

Dean shakes his head and chuckles fondly, “You fucker.”

Cas licks his lips a little and lets out a small huff, laughing.

Dean walks over to his floor lamp, turns it off, and faces the corner of the room. He glances over his shoulder to see Cas staring at him. “Hey, eyes over there!” he says, pointing to the other side of the room.

“Why?” Cas laughs.

“Cause I don’t want you lookin’ at my ass, that's why! This ain’t no peepshow!” Dean shoots back. When Cas doesn’t look away, Dean tries to stare at him intimidatingly, but it doesn't work cause he's smiling too much. Cas laughs again and looks away, also smiling. _Bastard._ Dean chuckles and turns back towards the corner. He undoes his jeans and quickly glances over his shoulder. Cas has found the towel from earlier and looks like he’s going to use it to clean himself up. Dean turns back quickly and shucks his jeans and briefs off. He wipes himself off as best he can with a clean part of his underwear, then drops them onto his jeans below. Feeling exposed, he wants to glance back at Cas again, to make sure he isn't looking. But he quickly pulls his clean briefs on instead and adjusts himself. “We all good, dude?” Dean asks, still facing the corner.

“Uhhh,” Cas responds awkwardly, “I seem to have soiled my pants, too.”

“WHAT?!” Dean shouts, whipping around without thinking.

Luckily, Cas has already put on his new underwear. He’s sitting on the bed with his feet on the mattress, hairy legs bent up in triangles, holding the waistband of the discarded grey sweatpants between his legs, awkwardly. Dean walks over to the bed and looks at Cas. Cas looks back sheepishly and shrugs. Dean’s eyes flick to the inside of the sweatpants and he sees some of the crotch is damp from cum. “OH! Oh…” he starts laughing, “That’s ok, then.” Cas exhales, relieved. “I thought you meant… nevermind.” _Thank God! I thought I was going to have to clean him up like a baby._ “Yeah, we’ll just get rid of these, then,” Dean says, picking up the sweatpants that have Cas’ cream-soaked underwear inside. Cas throws the hand towel into the pants opening, as well, before Dean takes them over to the corner behind the door, and places them on the floor, with his dirty t-shirt from earlier. Dean wipes his fingers on the legs of the sweatpants, then stands and looks at his jeans and underwear in the opposite corner of the room. Sleep is about ready to pull him under. His arms feel like lead, so he decides to leave his clothes there til morning. _I’ll do a wash before Kevin wakes up. It'll be fine._

Dean trudges back toward the bed in just his underwear and socks -- normally, he'd be self-conscious about that, but he's too tired to care. He looks at Cas, who’s on the left side of the mattress in a black, long-sleeved shirt and black briefs. He looks like he's wearing a bodysuit; like a female dancer from an 80's movie or something. “You want pants?” Dean lazily gestures to his dresser.

The corner of Cas’ mouth slowly curls up and he says with mischievous eyes, “No.” Dean laughs and says, "Ok," while turning off the lamp on the dresser.

Dean pulls down the sheet and blanket on the right side of the bed. Cas slides under the covers and watches Dean, expectantly. Dean slides his legs under the covers and turns to shut off the lamp on the nightstand, but turns back to Cas before he does. “Wait, is your shoulder ok?”

Cas puts a hand on his left shoulder and moves it around, feeling a bit. “Yes,” he smiles.

“Good,” Dean smiles back and nods sleepily. He turns back to the nightstand and switches off the light, "Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."


	8. Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, everyone, but I'm having a lot of trouble with the Choose Your Own Adventure format for this story. And since it's the first story in a series I've been planning for most of the year, I don't really see how I could continue the format in a series. (Like, which choices would I pick as fact for sequels? I'd have to make multiple versions of sequels to make all choices valid, but I had choices within choices and it just morphed into this exponentially branching plot tree of pain.) I WILL write a one-shot in a Choose Your Own Adventure format, but I realized I bit off far more than I could chew in attempting it with my first series. I'm very sorry to disappoint and really hope you'll continue reading. Mea culpa.

The lights are off for about two seconds before Cas says, "Uh, Dean?"

Dean sighs wearily, "Yeah?"

"I need a pillow."

"Ok."

Silence. Darkness. No movement.

Dean groans and turns on the nightstand lamp. He turns towards Cas and says, "So, go get one."

Cas sits up and looks at Dean with worried eyes and a childish pout.

"Dude, Cas. Look, I know you're scared, but I'm beat. It'll be fine. Just go get it, ok?" Cas' mouth straightens out and he looks down. Dean sighs, "If it'll make you feel any better, take Ruby's knife with you." Dean gets a confused look on his face, "Where did that go, anyway?" He lifts up the covers and looks towards their feet, "It's not in the bed, is it?"

"It wouldn't be under the covers," Cas says flatly.

"Right. Did it fall between the mattress and the footboard?" Dean asks, pointing.

Cas crawls to the foot of the bed to look. Since Cas isn't wearing pants, Dean inadvertently gets an eyeful of his ass and the back of his sack. _I can totally see his junk._ Embarrassed, Dean quickly closes his eyes and flops backwards on the bed. Cas raises his head up and says, "No."

"Well, whatever. Just find it and go," Dean says dismissively, without opening his eyes. Dean can't see it, but Cas narrows his eyes and gives him an angry look. Cas goes to the side of the bed and sees the knife on the floor, not far from where he'd put his socks and shoes. He's surprised he didn't notice it before. He gets off the bed, picks up the knife, and says, "Fine!" like a petulant teen.

"You find it?" Dean mumbles, without moving or opening his eyes.

"Yes... no thanks to you," Cas grumbles, annoyed Dean won't fetch him a pillow or accompany him to go get a pillow, but actually angry that walking the bunker alone at night terrifies him.

"Cas, please, it's been a _long_ fuckin' day, man," Dean implores.

Hearing the weariness in Dean's voice, Cas' features soften. It's been an exhausting day for both of them. Cas sighs and replies without attitude, "I'd feel better with my angel blade."

"Duffle," says the voice from the bed. Cas nods, even though Dean isn't looking at him. He walks to the desk and takes the angel blade out of the duffle and puts Ruby's knife inside. He looks back to his socks and shoes, but decides to stay barefoot -- the skin of his feet will give him better traction on the floor if he has to run. Cas does a cursory look around the room, seeing if there's anything he's forgotten. His eyes stop on the dresser -- he would like some pants now. His eyebrows go up and he glances at Dean on the bed. He looks like he's asleep. Cas pushes his bottom lip out a bit, debating whether to bother him again or not. Then he walks over to the dresser and opens one of the drawers.

Almost asleep, Dean hears Cas opening the drawer and opens his eyes. He's treated to a view of angel ass. Well, _former_ angel ass, in his own underwear. _Huh, not bad. Curvy, but muscular... stop staring, you perv._ Dean forces the thoughts out of his head. "Whaddya doin'?" he asks in a groggy voice.

Cas quickly turns and ducks his head, looking at Dean like a kid that got caught doing something wrong. _Heh, he's cute._ "Pants?" he asks in a high-pitched voice, awkwardly gesturing towards the dresser.

"Bottom drawer," Dean laughs and closes his eyes, again. Cas nods and finds some dark blue pajama pants in the bottom drawer. The material is thin, but it's better than nothing. He slips them on and closes the dresser drawer. Then he looks at Dean and aimlessly around the room, again. He slowly pads towards the door with the angel blade in hand. "I'm... gonna go, now," he says, looking at Dean for a reaction.

"Ok," Dean mumbles without moving. Cas quirks his mouth and nods his head. Resignedly, he slowly turns and gingerly opens the bedroom door, cautiously peeking one way, then the other, down the hallway. He steals one last glance at Dean and leaves the room -- leaving the door ajar in case he needs to rush back in.


	9. Bilocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean lays in bed, feeling like Cas has abandoned _him._ Because Dean's an idiot... and so tired he can't think straight. Meanwhile, Cas has a panic attack when he gets to the spot in the hallway where Sam had attacked him that morning. After feeling sorry for himself and then hating himself, Dean realizes Cas has been gone awhile and decides to go looking for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fricken triggered _myself_ a few times writing this chapter, so I figured maybe I should put a warning on it. If you've ever been attacked, lost a lot of blood, had a near-death experience, or suffer from PTSD -- you might want to skip this chapter. Guilt over the deaths of family and friends is brought up, too. As well as self-loathing, cause that's Dean's middle name. The chapter summary above tells you all you need to know. (But SPN itself is a traumafest, so maybe trigger warnings are unnecessary?)

_Sure, just fuck me and leave me. Typical._ In Dean's semi-conscious state, Cas leaving his bedroom feels like abandonment. In his partial, illogical thoughts, the familiar sounds of someone getting dressed, gathering their belongings, and leaving while he's starting to doze connects Cas to all the girls that have left his motel rooms over the years. Sure, that's bass-ackwards, but we all know sometimes Dean's an idiot and his abandonment issues run deep. His half-asleep brain is making connections between one-night stands leaving and Cas flying off all the time -- and that doesn't sit right with him at all. He thought Cas, of all people, would want to cuddle with him after it was over. Dean curls in on himself, into the fetal position. The bed is cold and empty with Cas gone.

~*~*~*~

Cas intends to walk back to the infirmary to get the pillows from his sickbed. He was just going to get one, at first, but then decided to get both. He doesn't understand why every bed in the bunker was only allotted one pillow. Since Metatron stole his grace, making him nearly human, physical sensations have become more noticeable; more pronounced. He still remembers his shock at how much more painful cutting his arm was, when he did so in the backseat of the Impala. He inadvertently swore from the pain, earning a concerned look from Dean and a confused look from the ailing Sam in his lap. When Sam quit refusing his blood and started sucking his arm, Cas laughed at the shivery, jumpy feeling Sam's wet mouth and soft lips sent through his body. The hairs of his arms rose and little bumps appeared on his skin, confusing Cas. Dean was also confused, yelling that it wasn't funny. No, that rushed, panicked ride back to the bunker as his brothers and sisters fell and Sam convulsed in his arms was anything but amusing. But Castiel couldn't help it. The sensation of Sam sucking on his arm made him laugh, for some reason. It was an involuntary reaction. 

The second time Cas fed Sam blood from his arm, he didn't laugh. The physical sensations were still stronger than he was used to, but it didn't feel the same. He _still_ must have done something wrong, though, because Dean glared at him the whole time and said he shouldn't do it that way, anymore. After that, Kevin would draw the blood out of Cas' arm with a syringe and give it to Sam to drink. As the withdrawals continued, Cas lost more and more of the last of his grace, which was bound to the blood circulating through ~~his vessel~~ his body. After awhile, Cas' arm would hurt even after the syringe had been withdrawn. Dean brought him another pillow to lay his arm on, which lessened the pain. As time wore on, the pillows felt even better and more comforting. Cas reached the conclusion that all beds should have, at minimum, two pillows... if not more.

While his mind was occupied with these thoughts, Cas had been able to keep his fear and anxiety under control. Sure, maybe he'd been gripping his angel blade tighter than necessary, but his palms are slippery from sweat. And his eyes have been constantly darting around, but his vision has become weaker with his growing humanity and the bunker halls are quite dark at night. But, as he nears the place Sam attacked him that morning, Cas' breathing gets faster and heavier and he stops walking altogether -- inundated by a flood of memories laden with physical sensations and strong emotions.

As he turned right at _that_ corner and saw Sam walking towards him this morning, Cas had shifted to the right, closer to the wall, to avoid walking straight into the taller Winchester. They'd been almost face-to-face as he rounded the corner. That little shift of his body probably saved Cas' life. His first indication anything was wrong was the sensation of warm wetness starting at his shoulder and running down his chest, arm, and back. At first, he thought Sam had accidentally spilled a cup of coffee on him, while attempting to avoid a collision. It seemed Sam always had a cup of coffee in hand and Cas had seen his hand moving out of the corner of his eye. But when Cas looked down and saw all the red; all the blood; _his blood,_ all over him, he panicked. He quickly looked to Sam for an explanation, but Sam's face... Sam's face was different; twisted so that he didn't even look like himself, anymore. The bite of the slash finally registered [adrenaline having delayed the pain] and Cas grabbed his shoulder. That's when he saw the knife. As Sam started to swing at him again, Cas heard Kevin scream Dean's name and suddenly Cas' legs were carrying him towards Kevin's voice -- without any conscious thought or will to do so. He'd suddenly just found himself already running.

At these memories, Cas backs away from the corner, until his back is up against the wall of the hallway. He slowly starts sliding down the tiles, so overwhelmed with emotion he's trembling. When his butt hits the cold floor, he wants to put his head down and his arms around his legs, to try and get his breathing under control and stop the shaking -- but he can't tear his eyes off that corner. Sam could come around it any second. He has to be ready this time, cause it could all happen all over again!

~*~*~*~

_Mom left. Dad left. Sammy keeps leaving me; running away from me. Lisa and Ben... oh, no. No, don't go there. Bobby left twice, but that was his own damn fault -- he should've moved on after he died! He knew better, that stubborn son-of-a-bitch! Benny left, but... I made him leave; he did that for me. Jo left... God, Jo! Fuck. Ellen left, but it was to be with Jo, so... that was good. At least she didn't have to die alone. Cas has always just up and left, why should now be any different? He always has angel shit to do; bigger fish to fry. I can't expect him to stick around just for me..._ Dean sighs, his heart heavy. _...but I want him to._

_It's none of their faults; it's mine and I know it. Let's be real here -- they didn't leave, they fucking died! They died because of me! Mom was right... it's me. Even if that wasn't really her in Heaven, doesn't matter -- whoever or whatever that was; she was right. It's me and I know it. Everyone I love dies because of me. I destroy everything I touch. I'm like fuckin' poison. Cas is better off without me and he knows it. Sam is better off without me and he knows it. They're all better off without me and they know it. That's why they keep leaving me._

Dean pulls his pillow down to his chest to hug, scoots over to Cas' side of the bed, and nuzzles his face into the mattress. Cas' scent is still there and it comforts him. _Ok, it's sweat and it stinks...._ He inhales again to make sure. _It **does** stink... that's totally B.O. But it's Cas' stink, so... I like it? How fucked up is that? _ Dean laughs to himself, mood lifting already. _It was weird when he didn't have a scent. It made him like a ghost; even more other-worldly. But he was flesh and blood, too. Weird. Must be an angel thing. Angels don't sweat, I guess... but he has before, hasn't he? They don't eat or sleep... but Cas did both when he was still an angel._ At this thought, Dean's brain starts to wake up. _When he was still an angel... he's not an angel anymore._ Dean's eyes snap open. _Where is he?_ Dean sits up in bed, putting his pillow to the side. He squints his eyes, confused by the light. He looks at the nightstand lamp, then the rest of the room. When he moves his hands to rub the sleep out of his eyes, his right hand bumps the pillow. _Pillow. Oh yeah, he went to get a pillow. How long does that take?_ Dean rubs his eyes and decides to go look for Cas.


	10. Whoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes looking for Cas and while he finds him, things get worse before they get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for panic attacks, flashbacks, & PTSD.

Dean distractedly throws on his dead-guy robe, quickly cinching the belt. _Ok, don’t freak out – I’m sure he’s fine. Sam and Crowley are locked up tight, the bunker is warded to the gills… he’s fine._ He looks to his duffle on the desk. _But just in case...._ He looks for the angel blade, brows furrowing in confusion when he doesn’t find it, but finds Ruby’s knife, instead. He takes it out of the bag, turning it around awkwardly. His face quickly changes to an expression of recognition. “That’s right,” he says to himself and nods. _Cas took his blade. Guess this will have to do._ Dean pushes his door open and peers down each side of the hallway, “Cas?” he calls quietly and listens for an answer. When all he hears is silence, he starts walking down the hallway, quickly, but cautiously.

~*~*~*~

Realizing he’s falling to pieces, Cas starts talking to himself, in an attempt to calm down. “Ok,” he says, his voice shaky. He places his hands on the floor, but keeps hold of his blade. The firm, hard, cold floor grounds him some. “Ok,” he repeats, still unable to take his eyes off the corner. He pulls his feet back, putting the soles on the cold floor, as well, and tries to take a slow, deep breath. It doesn’t work and his lungs and heart stutter at his failed attempt to control them. The little progress he made in calming down is destroyed and he gets light-headed as his breathing speeds up even more. His body feels like it’s pulsating; almost convulsing; the sensations invading him in a way that makes him sick to his stomach.

~*~*~*~

Swiftly walking down the hall, Dean’s in hunting mode, knife gripped firmly in his lowered hand. _Ok, he was going to get his pillow. But he was all clingy when leaving the infirmary and my room. Shouldn't he have been back by now?_ Dean carefully walks through the library, wishing he hadn’t gone this way when he’s unable to see into the shadowy corners. _Shit! That’s it. I gotta adjust these lights for nighttime. It’s dangerous to have dark areas where intruders could hide._ When he gets to the hallway to the infirmary, he hates to admit to himself that he feels better, now that he's no longer out in the open. That is, until he gets to the infirmary itself and his expression becomes hard. Dean hates this room. The old school hospital beds and equipment, the painted white bricks, that damned green exam chair in the middle – it’s creepy as shit. Dean’s not a fan of hospitals in general, but old horror-movie looking hospitals? No thank you. His lips twist in disgust as he scans the room.

“Cas?” he whispers loudly, eyes alert for movement. When nothing happens, he cautiously walks over to Cas’ sickbed, turning a little this way and that, to make sure nothing sneaks up on him. _Shit!_ When Dean sees both of Cas’ pillows are still there, he gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He exhales slowly, glancing around. “Where are you?” he says to himself, as he grabs one of the pillows and tucks it under his left arm. He takes the other way back, past the green exam chair and Sam’s sickbed, into the opposite hallway.

~*~*~*~

Cas’ distress over being unable to control his body overrides his dread. He wraps his arms around his legs and hangs his head between them, taking his eyes off the upsetting corner. He stares at the floor and tries again to get his breathing under control. Letting his head bob with his breaths seems to help. Gradually, he starts rocking himself, soothingly, and his breathing starts slowing down. “It’ll be… alright,” he tells himself. “Just… calm down… and get back… to Dean.” He keeps rocking. 

~*~*~*~

_This is all my fault. If anything’s happened to him...._ Dean’s heart clenches at the thought. He stops as tears blur his vision. “No, he’s ok,” he says firmly, as he blinks back the tears. “He _has to be_ ok.” He licks his lips and continues down the hallway with renewed resolve, gripping the knife tighter.

~*~*~*~

Cas’ plan is to calm himself down enough to stand up, then forget the pillow and get back to the safety of Dean’s room. He’s almost starting to enjoy rocking on the floor. He lets his toes curl up on his way back and pushes off the floor with them with more force, each time he rocks forward. He allows himself to glance back up to the corner. His eyes want to flit away from it, but are drawn to it, at the same time. It still strikes fear into his chest, but it’s not as terrifying as before. It’s manageable.

Well – it _was_ manageable – until Dean came into view. As soon as Cas sees movement, he panics and tries to scramble to his feet, but slips and falls back onto his butt. Dean sees Cas on the floor and panics. _Oh no, he’s hurt!_ Concerned, he rushes over and lands on his knees in front of Cas, the pillow dropping to the floor. Dean keeps the knife in his hand, in case he needs to fight. “Cas!? Are you ok?” he almost shouts, grabbing Cas’ good shoulder with his free hand.

Cas is so terrified, he doesn’t even realize it’s Dean. All he knows is someone – who he’s convinced is Sam – has come around the corner and grabbed him. He frantically pushes himself away with his feet, scooting on his ass across the floor, yelling, “NO!!!”

He roughly shakes Dean’s hand off his shoulder and is just about to draw his blade and cut his attacker when Dean shouts, “CAS! IT’S ME! DEAN!” Cas’ arm stops, quivering, as he stares at Dean with wide, panicked eyes. He freezes, staring and breathing hard.

“It’s me,” Dean repeats, his worried eyes searching Cas’ for recognition. His left hand hovers hesitantly near Cas’ arm.

“Dean?” Cas cries, his eyes perplexed and anguished.

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says softly, nodding and smiling. Cas drops his blade and hangs his head, crying in relief. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Dean questions, fear and concern flaring up in him, once again.

Cas shakes his head ‘no’ without looking up, shivering as he breathes deeply. Dean gives him a moment to collect himself, glancing down the hallway, to make sure there’s no threat. Cas looks up and cries, “Dean!” as he gets to his knees.

“Yeah, Cas, it’s me,” he replies and tentatively pats Cas’ good shoulder. Cas shuffles forward on his knees and embraces Dean, holding onto him. Dean chuckles warmly. He puts Ruby’s knife on the floor and hugs Cas back. After a few moments, Dean pulls back and asks, “What happened?”

Cas slowly pulls back, looks at Dean sadly, then sighs. He sits back and glances over Dean’s shoulder at the corner, and then his eyes quickly flit to the floor in embarrassment. He looks back up, eyebrows raised, making creases in his forehead, “I don’t really know. I… I was afraid, going to get my pillows. Then I got here and…” he tries to explain.

“You got here and?” Dean prompts.

“I saw the corner of the hallway,” Cas raises his hand towards it, “…and I couldn’t go on.” He looks like he’s going to start crying, again. His voice is higher-pitched with emotion as he continues, “I don’t know what happened, Dean. I just kept thinking about Sam…” Cas looks down, unable to look Dean in the eyes, “about what Sam did to me… and,” his voice breaks into a sob.

Dean starts nodding slowly and quickly glances back towards the corner. “Ok,” he says, still nodding with understanding, “Ok. I think I get the picture.” He grabs Ruby’s knife and transfers it to his left hand. Then he grabs the pillow and tucks it back under his left arm. He gets to his feet and holds his right hand out to Cas, “Come on.”

Cas looks up at Dean’s hand and his eyes track to the pillow. “My pillow!” he says with surprise and a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, “ Dean laughs. “Come on; let’s go back to bed, huh?” Cas smiles warmly, gratitude radiating from his eyes. He transfers his angel blade to his left hand and grasps Dean’s right hand with his own, to help himself up. “Theeerre we go!” Dean says with exaggerated exertion, as he pulls Cas to his feet. _What the?_ Dean wasn’t expecting Cas to hug him, again, when he let go of his hand.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says quietly, as he squeezes. Dean chuckles, warmth filling him, as he hugs Cas back with his free arm.

“Anytime, babe. Anytime,” Dean smiles.


	11. Angel Baby

Cas takes the pillow from Dean with a smile and hugs it to his chest. Dean smiles back warmly and ruffles Cas' hair affectionately, earning him an even bigger, gummy smile from the former angel. As they turn to walk back to Dean’s room, Cas’ hand stealthily slips into Dean's and when Cas feels Dean clasp it, he almost has a bounce in his step as he pulls the other man along. Cas' demeanor and appearance - the bedhead, pajama pants, bare feet, and pillow - reminds Dean of a young Sam and he smiles, again. _Cas is such a little kid, sometimes. I shouldn’t get pissed at him for not knowing stuff – he can’t help he’s new at this and it’s gotta be hard. I should’ve just given him my pillow and been done with it._ Dean rubs Cas' fingers with his thumb.

When they get back to the room, Cas lets go of Dean's hand as Dean closes the door behind him. Cas gets to the middle of the room, then abruptly turns around and says, “Dean, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s fine, Cas. Don’t apologize. I get it," Dean explains. He puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder for emphasis, "I’m the one who should be sorry.” Cas forces a smile. Then Dean turns and puts Ruby’s knife back in his duffle.

“Well, I don’t ‘get it,’” Cas replies. “I’ve been scared before – terrified, even. But…” he looks down, quirking his mouth to the side as he thinks, “this was different, Dean. This was much worse.”

While Cas has been talking, Dean’s hung his robe on a hook and grabbed himself some olive green pajama pants. Standing next to his side of the bed, he starts putting them on and looks over the mattress at Cas while saying nonchalantly, “You had a panic attack; it happens.” Cas puts his pillow on the bed and is about to reply when Dean says, “You can put your angel blade in the duffle, on the shelf,” he pats the shelf behind the headboard, “or wedge it in between the mattress and bedframe. But don’t put it under your pillow.” Cas looks to the desk, shelf, and bed, then quickly puts his blade on the shelf, irritated.

He turns back to Dean, who’s crawling into bed, and huffs, “What do you mean, ‘it happens?’ It’s never happened to me, before.”

Dean gestures to the bed, indicating he wants Cas to get in. Cas does and tosses Dean's pillow at him. Dean puts it under his head and says, “I mean sometimes it happens. They suck, but they’re a part of life. And it looked like you were having one when we went to rescue Alfie. You know, before…” he trails off and looks away.

Cas looks down and gives a sad nod of acknowledgment, then explains, “I was remembering Naomi’s torture. Hearing Samandiriel’s screams…” he shakes his head and continues, “but that was different, Dean. This felt so much… _more._ ” Cas searches Dean’s eyes for understanding.

Dean nods and says, “More physical? You felt like you were having a heart-attack, right?”

“I’ve never had a heart-attack, Dean; I don’t know,” Cas says with complete sincerity.

Dean huffs a laugh and the corner of his mouth curls up as he says, “Sometimes I think it's the cheeseburgers finally catchin’ up to me, when I'm having one. I almost called an ambulance, once."

Cas snuggles down into the bed, like a child getting ready to hear a bedtime story. “What happened?”

Still smiling, Dean rolls his eyes – at himself, not Cas. _Well, I did bring it up._ He raises up a little to peek at the bedroom door, then scoots closer to Cas, talking low, “It was the first, well… the _only_ time I did anything more than kiss a guy.”

"You did more than kiss me," Cas interjects with a sly grin.

Dean smiles, a mixture of bashfulness and fondness, and looks down, "Well, the only _other_ guy, besides you," he says. Embarrassed, he nervously scratches the back of his head before continuing. “Anyway, I was at this bar in Fort Lauderdale after this hunt went bad.” His face gets solemn for a moment as he remembers. Then he sighs and continues, “Anyway, so, I’m feeling like crap and this gorgeous fuckin' guy starts hitting on me – dude looked like Tom Cruise, but with Patrick Swayze’s body.” Dean can tell by Cas’ unimpressed eyes that he has no idea who he’s talking about, so he quickly clarifies, “He was _super friggen hot, ok?_ Like way out of my league.”

Cas laughs at this admission, little crinkles appearing in the skin along the sides of his nose. _Oh, you only get the nose crinkles when he’s really tickled!_ “Go on,” an intrigued Cas says in a sexy, melodic voice.

Dean smirks and scoots even closer. “So, at first, I was just stunned he was even talking to me, ya know? I slammed a bunch of shots, cause I was so nervous.” He stops and smiles at the memories. “Then we started doing shots together and it wasn’t long til we were making out, hot and heavy, in the back of the club.”

Cas touches Dean’s arm and says, “I thought you said it was a bar?”

“Bar, club, whatever,” Dean starts to brush off Cas’ comment, but suddenly throws his head back, laughing. “No, wait, it was a club called, get this -- _Purgatory!_ ”

Cas’ eyes are incredulous and his expression hilarious as he says, “Why would anyone name an entertainment establishment after… after _that_ place?”

Dean puts his head down and shakes it back and forth, laughing, “I don’t know, man! But I felt like shit and when I saw the sign, it seemed appropriate, so I pulled into the lot! I thought they might have hot devil chick bartenders or something.” Dean looks up, but Cas’ confused expression stops his glee. “What?”

“You were hoping to run into demons?”

“No!” Dean gives an exasperated sigh, “No, not demons! Devil chicks – ya know? With the little pointy red leather…” Dean puts his fingers up to his head like horns. “Nevermind,” he says when he sees Cas isn’t getting it. “So, anyway, he’s got his hands under my shirt and he’s rubbing my nipples while he’s kissing me, driving me crazy,” Dean acts out his story a little as he's telling it and rubs his left hand up his bare chest and over his left nipple. It starts to harden a bit and Cas stares at it. “What?” Dean asks self-consciously, putting his arm across his chest to hide it.

Cas gently moves Dean’s arm down, points to the nipple, and asks, “You like that?”

Dean’s nipple fully hardens. He starts blushing and looks down, avoiding Cas’ eyes, as he says, “Yeah, I guess. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Cas responds honestly. At this admission, Dean looks back up and they both just grin at each other for a few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I didn't want to end this chapter there, but it was getting long! I'm sorry! I'm working on the next one right now & will get it out to y'all ASAP, ok?


	12. Nipples?

“No!” Dean gives an exasperated sigh, “No, not demons! Devil chicks – ya know? With the little pointy red leather…” Dean puts his fingers up to his head like horns. “Nevermind,” he says when he sees Cas isn’t getting it. “So, anyway, he’s got his hands under my shirt and he’s rubbing my nipples while he’s kissing me, driving me crazy,” Dean acts out his story a little as he's telling it and rubs his left hand up his bare chest and over his left nipple. It starts to harden a bit and Cas stares at it. “What?” Dean asks self-consciously, putting his arm across his chest to hide it.

Cas gently moves Dean’s arm down, points to the nipple, and asks, “You like that?”

Dean’s nipple fully hardens. He starts blushing and looks down, avoiding Cas’ eyes, as he says, “Yeah, I guess. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Cas responds honestly. At this admission, Dean looks back up and they both just grin at each other for a few seconds.

 _Should I ask him if he wants to find out? But I really want him to touch mine._ Cas reaches his hand out and looks back to Dean to make sure it’s ok. Dean smiles wider, giving the green light, and starts breathing heavier. Cas pushes his fingers firmly to Dean’s chest and smears them across his nipple too hard to be pleasurable. _Oh my God, he has no idea what he’s doing! Don’t laugh._ Dean’s lips contort as he holds in his laughter. Cas looks at his face and says, “What? No good?”

 _Be nice._ “Let me show you,” Dean responds. Cas smiles and nods with relief. Dean licks his lips. _It’d probably be better…_ “Can I show you..." Dean asks, raising his eyebrows, "on you?”

“Ok,” Cas says simply.

Dean smiles and looks around, trying to decide how to do this. He sits up and scoots away from Cas a bit, then sits on his heels and says, “Um... sit up and scoot over here a little.” Cas smiles and does as he’s told, so they’re both in the middle of the bed, sitting on their heels, facing each other, knees touching. “Ok, lean forward a little and hold your arms out. I’m gonna take your shirt off.” Cas does, though he has trouble extending his left arm. Dean peels the black knit long-sleeve off his body by the bottom hem, turning it inside out in the process. He tosses it over his shoulder, off the bed. Cas looks up and his hair is so fuzzy from the static, he looks like a dandelion. Dean laughs and says, “Ok,” and sits up straight, clearing his throat. Cas does the same and Dean starts breathing heavier as he puts his hands on Cas’ hips. He looks up and Cas’ eyes are hooded with lust, but his strong jaw and pink lips are almost defiant-looking. Dean’s overcome with desire -- his body feels like putty and his willpower falls away. His eyes become hazy as he says quietly, “You really are a beautiful man, Cas.” He slowly leans forward and gently kisses Cas’ lips, closing his eyes. When he feels Cas reciprocate, he slides his hands up Cas’ sides, stopping at his ribs, kissing his lips softly and wetly, a few more times. Then he pulls back and says gruffly, “Lay down.”

Cas licks his lips and nods once, in a daze. Dean spreads his legs so there's a gap between his knees and Cas slides his legs straight through. Dean sits on Cas’ crotch and rocks his hips a little, to get comfortable and excite Cas a little. Then he leans forward and cups Cas’ face, a thumb in front of each ear, and kisses him passionately and deeply. They start grinding as they French kiss and both start to get hard. Cas pushes Dean’s chest gently with his fingertips. Dean breaks the kiss, looking down at Cas for an explanation. “Nipples?” he says in his deep voice.

Dean laughs and tries to stop grinding, but can’t completely, so he just slows his roll. “I forgot,” he smiles. Cas smiles back, also amused. “Ok,” Dean huffs, letting go of Cas’ face. He looks at Cas’ chest and cups his sides, by his upper ribs. He puts his thumbs under Cas’ small, brownish nipples. “You wanna use your thumbs,” Dean instructs, “and just brush them gently.” He looks Cas in the eyes as he does that to both of Cas' nipples at the same time. Cas’ mouth straightens out and his eyes look like he’s concentrating. “What?”

“I barely felt that,” Cas answers, disappointed.

Dean stops grinding. “Ok,” he says, then bites his lip. “Sometimes going around the edges in circles helps to get them hard.” Dean takes his right pointer finger and rubs it around the edges of Cas’ left nipple, teasingly. The little nipple gets hard, but Cas doesn’t look impressed. Dean rubs the pad of his thumb over the top of the nub, then flicks it from underneath a few times. He looks to Cas, who just shrugs. “Really?” Dean asks in disbelief.

“It feels alright... but not that pleasurable,” Cas explains. Dean’s lips twist in frustration -- this is a challenge to his manhood, now.

“How about this?” he asks as he squeezes Cas’ hard nipple.

“That’s just... annoying,” Cas explains in a flat voice. Dean squeezes it harder. Cas frowns and shakes his head ‘no.’

“Huh! Ok, lemme try a few more things,” Dean says, surprised. Cas nods, but his eyes are bored. Dean smirks, then leans down and licks Cas’ hard nipple with the tip of his tongue. He glances up and Cas’ eyebrows are raised in interest. He flicks it a few times with his tongue and Cas moves a little.

“That feels better than the others,” Cas admits. Pleased to make some progress, Dean sucks the nipple into his mouth. “That feels good,” Cas responds. Dean smiles against Cas’ chest and sucks harder. Cas starts rolling his hips a bit and says distractedly, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good.” Grinding back, Dean bites Cas’ nipple and pulls it gently with his teeth as he sucks. “Oh yeah, I can see…” Cas starts in a higher tone of voice. Dean grinds the nipple between his teeth a bit and Cas’ words turn into a little moan. Dean keeps sucking and lets the nipple slip out of his plump lips as he straightens up, smiling smugly at Cas. “I can see the appeal when you use your mouth,” Cas says with a smile. “Can I try on you again, now?” he adds excitedly.


	13. Inside of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild homophobia and gay panic.

“Huh! Ok, lemme try a few more things,” Dean says, surprised. Cas nods, but his eyes are bored. Dean smirks, then leans down and licks Cas’ hard nipple with the tip of his tongue. He glances up and Cas’ eyebrows are raised in interest. He flicks it a few times with his tongue and Cas moves a little.

“That feels better than the others,” Cas admits. Pleased to make some progress, Dean sucks the nipple into his mouth. “That feels good,” Cas responds. Dean smiles against Cas’ chest and sucks harder. Cas starts rolling his hips a bit and says distractedly, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good.” Grinding back, Dean bites Cas’ nipple and pulls it gently with his teeth as he sucks. “Oh yeah, I can see…” Cas starts in a higher tone of voice. Dean grinds the nipple between his teeth a bit and Cas’ words turn into a little moan. Dean keeps sucking and lets the nipple slip out of his plump lips as he straightens up, smiling smugly at Cas. “I can see the appeal when you use your mouth,” Cas says with a smile. “Can I try on you again, now?” he adds excitedly.

Dean’s smile gets wider, showing his teeth and making the skin around his shining green eyes crinkle. “I thought you’d never ask, baby,” he says and winks at Cas, who beams back at him. Dean swings his leg back and off Cas, like a cowboy getting off a horse, and says, "Switch places." Cas quickly sits up, as Dean maneuvers around and flops back onto a pillow, excited. The mattress is bouncing a bit, from them both moving around. Standing on his knees at Dean’s side, Cas hesitates for a moment. Dean says, “Climb aboard,” and bounces his eyebrows, making Cas chuckle. Dean holds his left hand up and Cas grabs his wrist for stability. But as Cas is mounting Dean, somehow the head of Dean’s dick gets under Cas' crotch and he's going to sit on it. “Wait, wait,” Dean says, pulling his boner free and repositioning himself alongside Cas’ increasing chubby. “That’s better,” he smiles. “Carry on.”

Once settled, Cas is smiling like an idiot and Dean’s not far behind. Cas ruts on Dean a little, grinning at him playfully. Dean laughs. Then Cas’ expression changes. His smile becomes serene and his eyes hazy. He leans down, putting his hand on the side of Dean’s face and rubbing his fingers through his hair, lightly. _Love that._ Dean closes his eyes and happily nuzzles his head against Cas’ hand. Cas kisses him lightly on the cheek and Dean hums in approval. He slowly slides Cas’ hand down his face and kisses his palm, before letting go and opening his eyes. “You’re turning me into a sap, you know” Dean says matter-of-factly. Cas tilts his head as a sort of shrug, then trails his hand down Dean’s neck, to the anti-possession tattoo on his chest. Dean looks down, smooshing up his chin. “Oh yeah, you’re going to need one of those, now,” he says. Then he looks at Cas and adds, “Remind me before we leave the bunker and I’ll draw one on ya with a Sharpie.”

Cas nods and looks thoughtful, still running his fingers over Dean’s tattoo. The change in mood and slowing of action has allowed Dean to go from a full hard-on to a semi. But his left nipple has hardened a bit in anticipation - from Cas’ fingers stroking his skin near it. Their eyes meet and Cas smiles sadly. “Can I tell you something, Dean?” he asks with hooded, serious eyes.

“Sure.”

Cas looks back to the tattoo and exhales slowly, trying to decide how he wants to say this. Then he looks up and gently strokes Dean’s stubbly chin. He leans closer, hand still holding the tip of Dean's chin, and says with longing eyes, “I wanted to be inside of you."

“What?” Dean’s eyes widen in alarm and he starts to straighten up.

“I still do,” Cas confesses. His voice gets quieter as he continues, “But I can’t, now.”

Dean’s struggling to get out from under Cas. He’s pulling his body back towards the headboard and spits, “You’re damn right you can’t!” Cas lets Dean up, staring at him in sad confusion.

“Dean, what’s wrong? You wouldn’t want that, too?” he asks, distressed.

Dean gets out of bed and quickly turns to face Cas. “No, I don’t want that!” he almost yells. Then he laughs in disbelief and rubs his forehead a bit before continuing, “I’m sorry, Cas, but my ass is an exit only, ok? Just no. That’s not ever happening.” He stands there with his arms crossed, staring at Cas with a face like stone.

Cas’ face scrunches up in adorable confusion, “What?”

“What’s so hard to understand? I said ‘no,’ Cas! God, that’s sick! I can’t believe you’d want to do that!” Dean’s lips twist up in disgust, “It’s so unsanitary and gross.”

Cas suspects he’s not understanding something, but he doesn’t know what. He carefully watches for Dean’s reaction as he says, “Well, it doesn’t matter, now. With my grace gone, it’s impossible.”

Dean’s expression softens a bit, but his eyebrows are still together in confusion as he says, “Huh? What’s your grace have to do with it?”

Cas’ eyebrows go up and he casually explains, “I kinda need it to leave this body.”

Dean’s eyebrows go down further and his eyes unfocus and track back and forth as he thinks over the conversation. He raises his right hand, pointer finger extended, then curls it back and puts his fist to his lips. “To leave your body?” he asks.

“Yes,” Cas says, slowly nodding. He eyes Dean as he continues slowly, “... and enter yours, so I could touch your soul without any flesh in the way.”

“OH!” Dean’s entire body language changes with understanding. His eyes widen, eyebrows go up, bow legs come back, and he throws his arms out a bit -- basically, his whole body opens up. He points at Cas, then to himself while saying, “You mean you wanted to be inside my body with me?”

Annoyed, Cas replies in a high-pitched voice, “That’s what I said!”

Dean bends over, laughing, and puts his hand on the mattress. Cas just stares at him, perplexed. Dean looks up, still laughing, “I’m sorry, man. I thought you meant something else.” Smiling, he climbs back into bed and says, “Scoot over.”

Cas does, even though he’s still confused. “What did you think I meant?”

Dean laughs again, laying down. He pats the mattress and Cas lays next to him, facing him. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter, now.” He fondly runs his hand down the side of Cas’ face and smiles.

Cas still wants to know, so he tries to prop himself up with his left arm, to kinda demand Dean tell him, but it hurts his wound. “Ah!” He drops back to the mattress and grimaces.

“Ah, shit,” Dean glances around. “Here, switch sides with me.” They both glance around and Dean says, “Wait, lemme turn off the light.” He switches off the nightstand lamp and the room goes dark. “Ok, you slide over to my side on your back and I’ll crawl over you.” Dean says to the darkness.

“Uhhh, ok,” Cas’ disembodied voice responds with uncertainty. They switch positions in bed and Dean’s not surprised his chubby is almost gone, when he becomes aware of it again, as he’s climbing over Cas. _I guess Cas is completely soft, now. Not feeling anything poking me._ Dean smirks to himself in the dark. They get settled and Cas says, “What did you think I was talking about?”

Dean groans and turns away from Cas, laying on his right side, “Just forget it, man.”

Cas scoots over so he’s right behind Dean, facing his back and says, “No, I want to know what upset you.”

Dean groans again and says, “Fine, but you gotta scoot back over there, if I’m gonna tell ya!” _Bounce, bounce, bounce_ \- Dean feels and hears Cas backing off and chuckles to himself. The movement and sound stops.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, ok,” Dean answers with irritation. He sighs and starts, “I… I thought you meant you…" then he sighs again and says the rest quickly, with obvious discomfort, "I thought you wanted to fuck me in the ass, ok?” He grits his teeth, fearing Cas’ reaction.

“What?!” Cas laughs.

Dean fake laughs, “Crazy, right?” _Oh please say ‘yes!’ Please agree!_

“No, Dean, that’s not what I meant,” Cas responds.

“Good,” Dean says simply, unsure what Cas’ tone of voice means. After a few moments of silence, Dean turns toward Cas in the dark. He can see the outline of his body, but not his face, even though Cas is facing him. “I thought about that, before... ya know?” Dean ventures.

“Thought about what?” Cas asks.

Dean laughs, “Letting you use me as a vessel,” he clarifies. Then his voice gets serious, “When we were in Purgatory.”

Cas scoots closer and Dean can sort of see his face. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies, his voice shaky with emotion. “I thought… I thought maybe I could get you through the portal that way. Being in a human body, ya know? But then I realized Jimmy’s body had been a human body. And if God rebuilt you, I probably shouldn’t mess with it. I figured you’d probably have the best chance with the body you were already in.”

Cas puts his hand on Dean’s arm. Dean flinches, but Cas squeezes gently. “Thank you, Dean,” he says quietly, then removes his hand. Dean only flinched cause he wasn’t expecting to be touched. Now that Cas’ hand is gone, he misses the contact.

“But, Cas… there were other reasons I decided against it, too,” he confesses.

“Such as?” Cas prompts and Dean swears he can hear the smile in his voice.

“They were selfish reasons,” Dean admits.

“Like what?”

“Well, I was sorta afraid if it didn’t work, that I might explode and kill all three of us.”

“That’s not selfish.”

“Well… I also didn’t want to leave your body behind.”

Cas shifts in bed, propping himself up and asks, “Why?”

Dean exhales and says, “Well, say it worked and the two of you hitched a ride back here in me… that sounded weird.” Cas laughs. “Benny got his body back from that spell, but what about you?”

“I’d have to take another vessel,” Cas responds matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but that would mean possessing someone else and I didn’t want that.”

“I could stay with you.”

Dean slowly exhales, then says, “I didn’t want that, either. I mean, don’t get me wrong – it’d probably be great, for a little while.”

“But not permanently,” Cas finishes Dean’s thought.

“Yeah… I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says sincerely.

Cas reaches out and finds Dean’s face with his hand. He starts stroking the hair on the side of his head and says, “That’s ok, Dean. I understand.”

“Do you?” Dean’s voice is high-pitched and shaky.

“Yes, you want to be your own man. You don’t want to be controlled by anyone or…”

“That’s not the only reason,” Dean interrupts.

Cas’ hand stops moving, “What else?”

Dean’s hand finds Cas’ hip and he starts rubbing it with his thumb, but doesn’t speak.

“Dean?”

“I didn’t want to leave this body behind, either. I _like_ this body,” Dean says while rubbing Cas’ back with his fingers. “I like _YOU_ in this body,” he clarifies.

Cas scoots right up to Dean and they wrap their arms around each other. “But don’t you want to be closer than this?” Cas whispers.

Dean puts his forehead against Cas', closes his eyes, and sighs, “I do.... But if you leave your body, can you even get back inside with Jimmy gone?”

“I don’t know,” Cas admits.

“Shit,” Dean whispers under his breath.

“If not, I could always take another vessel...” Cas starts.

“You’re not listening, Cas! I don’t want you in another vessel; I want you in _this_ one! And I don’t want to share you with anyone! I don't want anyone else besides you!” Dean yells. Cas quickly scoots away. _Fuck, I scared him away being too possessive._ The light snaps on and Cas is staring at Dean with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Cas. I…” Dean starts, but Cas rushes over and stops Dean’s words with his lips. Dean’s eyebrows go up in surprise and he stares at Cas' face, but all he can see are Cas' closed eyelids. Dean closes his eyes and feels Cas’ mouth insistently trying to get him to open his own, so he does. His eyebrows go down and his hand slides up Cas’ back as they kiss deeply.


	14. Pillows and Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff-o-rama

“You’re not listening, Cas! I don’t want you in another vessel; I want you in this one! And I don’t want to share you with anyone! I don't want anyone else besides you!” Dean yells. Cas quickly scoots away. _Fuck, I scared him away being too possessive._ The light snaps on and Cas is staring at Dean with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Cas. I…” Dean starts, but Cas rushes over and stops Dean’s words with his lips. Dean’s eyebrows go up in surprise and he stares at Cas' face, but all he can see are Cas' closed eyelids. Dean closes his eyes and feels Cas’ mouth insistently trying to get him to open his own, so he does. His eyebrows go down and his hand slides up Cas’ back as they kiss deeply.

Cas is aggressive and his mouth unrelenting. He pushes Dean back and climbs on top of him; laying on him til their bodies are flush with no gaps in between. _Mmmm. That feels good._ They both tilt their heads to opposite sides to kiss deeper, but that’s not enough for Cas. He puts his left hand along the back of Dean’s neck and his right wraps around the side and back of Dean’s head. As he’s pushing himself into Dean, he’s pulling Dean up into him, going as deep into Dean’s mouth that he can – but still twirling his tongue in a surprisingly skillful way. _Like a damn corkscrew._ Dean has to struggle to get free to breathe. When he does, he sees Cas’ pupils blown black by lust; a hunger in his eyes. “What the Hell was that for?” Dean pants.

“You love me,” Cas all but purrs, slowly blinking his dreamy eyes.

Dean gives a little chuckle, looks away for a second, then looks back and says, “Well… yeah. I thought you knew that, already.”

Cas sits up and back, giving Dean some room. Then he moves both his hands to gesture to his body, “I mean like this. As I am, now,” he smiles.

“Yeah…” Dean says slowly, raising his eyebrows to prompt more of an explanation.

Cas lays back down on Dean, so he can be face-to-face with him. “I knew you loved me when I had my grace…” Cas’ mouth twitches a little in discomfort before he goes on, “but I wasn’t sure you felt the same, now that... I'm like this.”

Dean gives a little sigh and rubs his fingers through the back of Cas’ hair. “Look, man – does it suck that you lost your mojo? Yeah, big time.” Cas looks away, but Dean touches the side of his face and turns it back towards him gently with his fingers. “But more for you, than for me or Sam.” Cas smiles a bit. “Do I wish you could still smite demons and zap us around and shit? Sure. But just cause it’s a tactical advantage and we can use all the help we can get. But that’s not what makes you special to me, Cas.” Dean smiles warmly and Cas smiles wider, then closes his eyes and puts his head on Dean’s chest. Dean pets Cas’ hair, “You could get turned into a cat or something and I’d still care about you, you idiot.”

Cas chuckles, then raises his head up and says, “Gee, thanks,” with a silly grin on his face.

Dean laughs and says in a mock defensive tone, “Hey, I’m allergic to cats! That’s saying a lot!” and smirks back with bright eyes -- his teeth starting to show as his smile grows wider. Cas quickly grabs his pillow and unexpectedly smacks Dean in the face with it. “Oh ho ho!” Dean chuckles heartily and Cas jumps back. “You fucked up, now! I am the Pillow Fight King!” Dean declares as he snatches his own pillow. Cas has his pillow up and to the side, holding it with both hands, ready to hit Dean again. His hair is a hilarious mess, eyes excited and wild, parted lips in a cautious smile. "Aw, shit!" Dean says, disappointed, when he looks at Cas’ bandages. “We’ll have to do this another time,” he continues and lowers his pillow to the bed.

“Why?” Cas asks, confused, not lowering his pillow in case Dean is trying to trick him.

“Cause I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean explains, putting his pillow back at the top of the mattress and getting back into sleeping position, facing Cas.

Cas scrunches up his eyebrows and says, “Dean -- they’re pillows,” as he lowers his.

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, “but pillow fights have a way of getting very violent, very fast. I almost made Sam eat his, one time.” They both laugh and Cas puts his pillow back in place, getting ready to slide back under the covers. “Hey, turn the light off,” Dean says. Cas does, then slides back into bed. Dean turns away, then turns back. Then he does it, again.

“What’s wrong,” Cas asks, annoyed by Dean’s tossing and turning.

“Nothin’,” Dean says, turning again. There are a few moments of silence without movement before Dean turns away from Cas, again.

“Dean.”

“Ok…” Dean groans. After a minute, he says, “… speaking of Sam…”

Cas sits up a little, looking towards Dean’s back in the dark, “Yes?”

Not having to look at Cas makes it easier for Dean to open up. He gives an embarrassed laugh and says, “Here’s the thing… I guess it’s cause we grew up in motels and had to share a bed for years…”

When Dean doesn’t continue, Cas prods, “Yes?”

Dean sighs, “If I’m in a bed with someone…” he trails off. Silence -- Cas isn’t going to help him out, this time. “If I’m in a bed with someone,” Dean repeats, “I… end up ~~cuddling~~ hugging them,” he finishes. “Cause I’m used to it,” he quickly adds.

Cas smiles, “You can hug me, Dean.”

“But you’re on the wrong side. It’ll hurt your shoulder,” Dean explains.

“Then I’ll hug you,” Cas responds, scooting over towards Dean’s back.

Dean quickly turns around, almost face-to-face with Cas. He can’t see him very well, but he can feel his breath on his face. “You can’t,” he stammers out, nervous.

“Why?” Cas’ close voice asks.

 _Uh…_ Dean searches for a reason that isn’t _"cause I'm afraid for you to be that close to my ass" or "cause I want to hold you."_ He settles on, “Cause I’m the one that’s supposed to do the huggin’,” like that makes perfect sense. “That’s my job, ya know?”

“Can I hug you, Dean?” Cas asks sincerely.

Dean smiles bashfully in the dark and his heart speeds up. “Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

Dean turns back around, slowly. “Uh, ok… I guess.” Cas scoots up behind him and for a moment, Dean is terrified. Then Cas slips his left arm around Dean’s chest, under Dean’s arm. Dean laces their fingers together and hums in contentment, relaxing. _I've never been the little spoon, before._

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas whispers in his ear.

“Night, Cas,” Dean replies, already drifting off. _This is nice..._


	15. Busted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter as I set up plot.

“Dean! Dean!” Kevin’s high-pitched voice breaks through the tranquility to Dean’s consciousness. Dean struggles to open his eyes and they blearily focus on his jeans and underwear in the corner. He blinks and stares at his discarded clothes blankly as the soft darkness of unconsciousness leaves his mind. “Dean! Are you in there?” Kevin’s voice comes again. Dean groans and moves his hand to rub his face, but finds it’s holding another hand. Dean glances over his shoulder and sees the top of Cas’ dark spiky hair. _Oh fuck!_ Dean’s head falls for a second, then he carefully takes Cas’ arm off his body and says gruffly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m up!”

Kevin takes that as an invitation to come in. “Good, cause Sam’s…” he says while opening the door, but trails off when he sees inside the room. Dean and Cas are both in bed, right next to each other, and appear to be naked. Dean’s sitting up a bit and he’s clearly shirtless and Cas’ bandages give away that he is, as well. The blanket is thankfully covering their lower halves, but there’s clothing strewn all over the room. “OH! I, uh…” Kevin stammers, his voice stopping when his eyes land on the jeans and underwear Dean was wearing the day before, laying in a heap on the floor.

Dean follows Kevin’s eyes and starts to get out of bed, saying, “No, no, it’s not like that!” Kevin holds his hand in front of his face, to block his view of what he believes is a naked Dean, while backing out of the room -- muttering apologies as he's closing the door.

“Sorry! My bad!” Kevin continues from the other side of the almost closed door.

Dean groans in frustration, strides to the door and yanks it open. Kevin jumps in surprise. “See, pants. We’re both wearing pants,” Dean says while pointing to his pajama pants. “Now what about Sam?”

“Uhhhh, he’s groaning and pulling his chains, but I couldn’t find the keys to…” At this, Dean goes and gets the keys to "Sam's room" and restraints from his jeans.

Cas lifts his head up at the noise and says with bleary eyes, “Dean, come back to bed,” and pats the mattress once, before laying his head back down.

Dean replies in a hushed, gentle voice, “I can't; I gotta go check on Sammy. You sleep, though.” Cas’ eyes are closed and he gives a little nod as he makes himself more comfortable. When Dean turns back toward Kevin, he’s met with an amused, knowing smirk. Dean rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up.” When he gets to the door, his voice takes on an authoritative tone, “You did right coming to me.” Dean points at Kevin, “You never open that door or the dungeon without me, you hear?”

“Uh, ok,” Kevin nods in agreement.

“Good. I don’t need you outta commission, too.” Dean turns back and looks at Cas’ sleeping form for a moment, before carefully closing the door. He turns back towards Kevin and they stride down the hallway towards Sam’s room.


	16. Kevin's Two Mommies

As they head down the hallway, both are silent for a moment. _Shit! Angel blade._ Dean turns on his heel and says, “Hold up, I forgot somethin’.” He starts walking back to his bedroom, leaving Kevin in the hallway.

“Ok, but don’t be long,” Kevin calls after him.

Dean stops in his tracks, turns slowly and says with narrowed brows and indignation, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 _“You know,”_ Kevin says with an insinuating lilt to his voice.

Dean stares Kevin down, “I know what?”

The playful look on Kevin's face disappears and he shuffles uneasily on his feet. “Just, we gotta help Sam. So… don’t take too long,” he says while glancing between an intense Dean and the floor.

“I know that!” Dean yells. Kevin gives him a forced smile and half nod. Dean shakes his head, brushing off the odd comment with, “Whatever!” before stalking back down the hallway.

~*~*~*~

“Don’t take too long,” Dean mimics Kevin in a goofy, high-pitched voice. _Smartass kid. I don’t need this shit._ Dean slowly exhales. _Hell, he probably didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just bein’ paranoid._ Dean quirks his mouth to the side. _Or feeling guilty._ He huffs a sigh as he reaches his bedroom door. _Should I tell him I’m taking his blade? I’ll see if he’s still asleep._

Dean quietly opens his door and peers into the room. Cas is still in bed, in the same position as when he left. _Guess he’s still asleep. Good – he needs his rest. I’ll leave him Ruby’s knife. I wish I knew where that other angel blade got to._ Dean tiptoes into the room and carefully takes Ruby’s knife out of his duffle. He creeps next to the bed and replaces Cas’ angel blade on the shelf with Ruby’s knife. “Mmm…” Cas makes a noise. _Is he waking up?_ Dean turns and sees Cas roll onto his stomach, pinning his bad arm under his body. _Ah shit._ When Cas starts quietly groaning, Dean’s worried he’s hurting his injured shoulder in the new position. _Should I try to move him?_ He gets closer to Cas’ face, waiting to see if his expression becomes pained. A smile slowly sneaks onto Cas’ face as he starts languidly grinding into the mattress. _Wait, is he?!_ A louder and more enthusiastic, “Mmmmh!” from Cas answers Dean’s question. Dean’s mouth opens in a shocked and embarrassed smile. _Oh my God! Don’t laugh! Don’t laugh!_ He puts his hand over his mouth and feels his face and the tips of his ears get hot as he sneaks out as quickly and quietly as possible. Once he closes the door, he leans back against it and chuckles into his hand. _Oh my God. Ah, they grow up so fast!_ He laughs to himself, again, as he walks back towards Kevin.

After a few steps, a thought hits him. _I wonder if he was thinking about me?_ It stops Dean in his tracks and his lips curl into a triumphant smile. _Of course he was thinkin’ about me. I’m awesome!_ He nods his head, smiling wide, and continues down the hallway in a much better mood than before.

~*~*~*~

“Alright, I got an angel blade, just in case,” Dean says, holding the blade up and waggling it from side to side, when he sees Kevin.

“Oh, good. Hey, about before… I’m sorry,” Kevin responds.

“Huh?” Dean says when he reaches Kevin.

Kevin starts explaining, “I didn’t mean anything. You just reminded me of my Mom mom. Sometimes I’d wake her up to find something for me and then I’d think she was gonna get up after that... but sometimes she’d go back to her room and be gone for a while. I walked in on them, once and… yeah, I don’t want to do that, again.” Kevin looks up and sees Dean’s confused face. “What?”

Dean gestures at Kevin with his open hand, “Your ‘Mom mom?’ What are you talking about?”

“My mom who gave birth to me,” Kevin replies.

“You're adopted?” Dean asks while scratching his head.

“No, they never got married, so my other mom never legally adopted me. And she moved out a couple of years ago," Kevin explains sadly. "But they’re still friends, though, so that’s good,” Kevin interjects.

“Wait a minute, you lost me. Your other mom?”

“Yeah, my dad died when I was little. Then my mom started dating her best friend and they raised me… but they broke up before any of this prophet stuff started,” Kevin explains.

“So you had two moms?”

“Had,” Kevin says sadly.

“So you mom is a…” Dean trails off.

“Bisexual?” Kevin says like Dean's an idiot.

Dean nods in understanding, then smirks, “Is your other mom Asian, too?”

“Yeah…” Kevin answers awkwardly. Then he sees Dean’s smirk grow wider and his eyes unfocus. “No! Don’t think of them like that!” he yells while pointing at Dean.

“Whaaaat?” Dean says in a playful, offended tone.

“I’ve seen those magazines of yours! You’re not allowed to think of my moms like that!” Kevin declares. Dean tries to protest, but Kevin just yells, “NOOOOOOO!” as he quickly walks down the hall. Dean laughs and follows him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so Kevin having two mommies deviates from canon, but I *thought* it was canon for the longest time. Remember the first time we saw Kevin’s mom, she was played by a different woman? When the Leviathans nommed the angels in her kitchen? I skipped most of Season 7 when I first watched the show, cause I couldn’t take the CGI Leviathans seriously – it broke my suspension of disbelief and I couldn’t follow the plot cause I was just lmao at their big freaky mouths. I thought they ate Kevin’s mom, along with the angels, at the end of that episode. So when a new actress (Lauren Tom) started playing his mom, I thought that Kevin had two mommies. Kevin also had a line in one episode where he said it cost him “a mom” to do something. (That’s when they thought Linda Tran was dead, but she wasn’t.) But I thought he meant like “one mom outta two.” So when I saw Lauren Tom was still alive in the show, that cemented my belief that Kevin had two mommies. But, apparently, he doesn’t? Well, in this series of mine, he does.
> 
> If you have no idea what I'm talking about, this page might help - the pix of his "2 moms" are on there, along with the actresses' names.  
> http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=Linda_Tran


	17. I'm So Sorry

Ok, this isn't actually a new chapter in this work, I just wanted to finally update everyone. I'm SO SORRY for leaving you all with this cliffhanger for so long! I feel terrible about it! My health & life took a big nosedive since I updated last, but things *appear* to be more stable, now. I WILL finish this piece and add even more works to the series, but not quite yet. I just wanted to let everyone know I haven't abandoned this & apologize for the many month delay. I did write a new, short piece, recently. I'm currently working on the sequel. Given my current circumstances, it's better if I focus on shorter works, for the moment. Once again, I sincerely apologize for the long delay. :(

If you're interested in reading my new work, where Fallen Angel Cas & a Surprisingly Nice Fluffy Demon Dean get it on, it's here: [Snips and Snails and Demon Tails](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10162958/chapters/22575524)

And here's sequel to the above, currently in progress: [We Gripped Each Other Tight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10236248/chapters/22708991)


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